


When the raven has had its say

by languageismymistress



Series: When things go boo [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Cannibal Mick, Deceased Leonard, M/M, mentions of dead bodies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 01:23:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7019689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/languageismymistress/pseuds/languageismymistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mick asked Len why was he breathing so heavily,</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the raven has had its say

The television played softly in the background, the shuffling of paper came from his right, a meow and nudge from his left. It was the middle of winter, the coldest part, the only time that Leonard ever felt truly alive again. He felt though the smell of the crisp air and hint of mint was filling his useless lungs. His bones were almost that of a strong man, or at least a living one. 

 

Mick sat beside him, humming as he read the paper, the obituary section, in close detail. He was particular about what was printed about the dead and what was said. There was a large difference between the two. He was in the hunt for the next part that Len was in dire need for, a good set of lungs and maybe an extra thigh. It was always better to have spares in place, either for Len to use or Mick to eat. 

 

Len sat back into the couch that was holding him in place, the sound of the mumbles from the television and Micks breathing were mixing into a rather unpleasant tune. He had been used to the breathing for many years, it being a companion to him as Mick slept. It served a nice way of knowing that the bastard was still alive and well. Sadly, it didn’t help when Lens own life was taken from him. The hands of betrayal and a knife in his heart, the things that no person should ever have to suffer. 

 

Mick snorted, coughed and turned the page, similar to a well-oiled machine that needed no help nor instructions. Len just stared at the side of his old husbands head, hoping that some way, the man would stop the loud breathing that was coming from either mouth or nose or both. 

 

“Knock off the loud breathin, snowflake,” Mick mumbled under his breath.

 

“I don’t breath, Mick,” 

 

“Right,” Mick rested the papers to the side, turning his head to the body that was crawling, trying to crawl, it was rather difficult to do with one arm and one half of a leg. 

 

“It escaped again,” Len just sighed, he would prefer it if Mick would just kill the poor man. The smell was starting to clog up even his own half of a nose. 

 

“And I suppose you want me to do something about it,” Mick huffed. 

 

“I would give you a hand but,” Len just waved around his stump, Mick rolled his eyes and threw the paper he was reading at Len’s head. 

 

Mick watched the man crawl, roll and spurt over the rug, the one that Mick had just renovated. It was a sad frown on his lips, he liked that rug, covered the trapdoor where the others laid in wait very nicely. Good place to hide from wondering eyes too. 

 

The man who was make the somewhat run for it, crawl for it really, was making a good effort, Len was rather impressed by how far he had managed in the time for Mick to throw his paper at Len and walk to the beginning of the hallway. Len yawned watching Mick take the man back to his little cell, it was rather all uneventful in the end. He would hope rather that Mick just killed the man and put him out of his misery, though, given what the man did to those women, Mick was taking his time like he had with them.

 

“Better now?” Mick took his paper back, grabbing Lens feet to rest them in his lap. Len just lent back into the couch with a satisfied smirk on his lips, not looking like a cat, no matter how many times Mick makes that remark.


End file.
